Non Riescono A Ricordare
by EggDropSoup
Summary: In-progress. Multi-Chapter fic. Hisoka is dying. Tsuzuki, in desperation, makes a deal with Enma to save him. But what price will Tsuzuki have to pay? And will it be one that will separate these two partners forever? RATED M. WARNINGS PLACED IN CHAPTERS.
1. Chapter One: To Forget

****Warning: Manga/anime spoilers****

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Yami no Matsuei.  
**Beta:** Eria

**Non Riescono A Ricordare  
**By EggDropSoup

_Chapter One: To Forget _

It had started out with just an increased number of nightmares. Hisoka said he could handle it- that he was fine- and Tsuzuki believed him because he was still foolishly thinking about their mutual love confession the day before. He was confident that they could beat this- that their relationship could withstand all odds and Hisoka shared his optimism.

Little did they know how wrong they were...

* * *

Hisoka was thinner, frailer. He no longer had much of an appetite and when he did, he could never keep it down. Watari would have him go through several checkups-all of them ending with a few IV injections and a stern lecture to not over-exert himself. The nightmares were happening all the time now and sometimes Hisoka would get visions even when he was awake.

They had been restricted to work in the office for the last week and a half, filing paperwork and doing miscellaneous stuff that wasn't overly stressful on Hisoka's health. Hisoka wasn't happy and -in his sleep-deprived state- would complain, letting everyone know just how disgruntled he was at being taken off assignment.

When he got to that point, Tsuzuki would reach over and squeeze his hand. Hisoka, would at first be startled, Tsuzuki's emotions a vibrant difference to his fuzzy mind. But after the initial shock wore off, he would give a small, tired smile and squeeze Tsuzuki's hand back.

* * *

That night, Hisoka's condition had gotten worse. Tsuzuki had rushed him to infirmary and Watari was scrambling to stabilize him, even as Hisoka flailed on the hospital bed in pain. The room was full of activity and noise as Watari's assistants were rushing around, busy finding equipment or some medicine that would relieve the boy's pain. Nothing they tried worked, and it was all Tsuzuki could do to hold Hisoka's hand as the curse marks crackled on the younger shinigami's skin-burning-deep to the bones. The smell of charred flesh filling the room.

Hisoka was screaming, begging for relief each time the curse marks pulsed, eating away at his soul. Tsuzuki didn't say anything as he struggled to be strong for his partner- willing calming thoughts to Hisoka- full of care and love- through the connection of their intertwined hands.

But Hisoka was fading away and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

* * *

Tsuzuki burst through the doors of Enma's finely adorned golden chambers, ignoring the objections of the white-robed servants attempting to hold him down. They were no match for his strength as he threw them off, falling to the wayside like life-less rag dolls, and advanced upon the golden throne.

Unlike his servants, Lord Enma didn't seem shocked by his disrespectful intrusion to the throne room. Nor did he object to the treatment Tsuzuki had shown to his servants-who were cowering, kneeling several feet away in high reverence. In fact, the God looked pleased to see him, dressed in elaborate golden robes with pearl beadings of peacocks sewn on the fabric and his long hair pulled back. "What brings you here, Tsuzuki?"

Tsuzuki stopped right in front of him, not bothering to kneel as the servants had. "Hisoka is dying."

Enma stared at him indifferently for a second before looking away, not seeming the least surprised. He snapped his fingers, signaling two servant girls to approach him with long feathered fans. "Oh, is that so? I guess you'll be needing a new partner soon, won't you?"

"You can stop it."

Enma still didn't seem concerned about his situation, choosing to shift his body away as the girls fanned him, causing his robes and hair to stir slightly. "Can and will are entirely different things, Tsuzuki. I have no reason to act on behalf of some mortal." He waved a hand, dismissing him completely.

Tsuzuki's face hardened, but inside he was panicking. Time was running out. He couldn't let Hisoka die. In desperation, he racked his mind for something, anything, that could appeal to the God before him. "What if I gave you a reason?"

Enma stiffened before slowly turning to look at him with dark eyes full of interest. "...I'm listening."

"Erase my existence. Make it seem like I was never born so that Hisoka will never have to undergo being cursed by Muraki."

Enma smirked at him, crossed his legs and leaned forward, propping up an elbow on one of the throne's armrests. "And what will _I _get out of this act of good will?"

It was then that Tsuzuki took a breath and kneel-ed at the foot of Enma's throne. His voice broken and weary as he said, "I'll become your slave."

* * *

Hisoka had just left the meeting with the village elders. His father had fallen ill several weeks ago and because he was incapable of going, Hisoka had to go in his father's place. The elders seemed alarmed that the Kurosaki head wasn't accounted for, especially the Mayor, but Hisoka assured them that his father's ailment was only temporary.

At least he hoped so.

Hisoka had been living with his empathic abilities since he could remember, his parents having discovered them when he was a child. They had locked him away in his early childhood, afraid of his peculiar powers. But as he grew older, his father had begun subjecting him to training as the next in line.

He supposed he should be grateful for his necessity to the family. His mother and father no longer treated him like some deranged monster, but it was still a far cry from the love one would expect to find in a family.

The walk back from the meeting was hot as the sun beat down on his back. And he thanked the powers that be that he decided to wear his light blue summer yukata -the cotton and unlined fabric making it more breathable and easier to traipse around in.

His father frowned upon his overuse of the yukata, calling it servant wear, but at this point he no longer cared. His legs ached as he walked down the road, his sandals making a clip-clopping noise against the stray stones of the dirt road as he went.

As he neared the gate of his family's estate, he saw a man hovering just outside. The man was standing in front of the light brown, traditional japanese wood gate and fence, the layout of gate's overhang casting a shadow over the man's tall figure. The man's back was to the road and he didn't seem to have noticed that there was someone behind him.

At first, Hisoka thought the man very strange. He was dressed all in black and with heavy, long layered clothing that should have left him sweating in the intense heat. What's more was that the man seemed to be zoned out. Hisoka couldn't pick out what the man was thinking, especially. His thoughts were all discombobulated and out of order-a complete contrast to the man's calm expression.

He straightened his stance and decided that whatever the man was doing -standing outside like an idiot- had nothing to do with him. Hisoka pressed forward, walking to the gate with confidence but stopped when he brushed past the older man. In the brief moment that they had been side by side he caught a trace of something, and it caused his heart to ache so fiercely that it startled him. He didn't understand. As much as he tried to recall the images that had flashed before his mind, he couldn't identify them. It was like his brain was being forcefully stopped. He regarded the tall stranger with suspicion, feeling uncomfortable as their eyes met-and when they did he started. The man's eyes looked purple.

Hisoka had never seen eyes that color before and he wondered if it was the light that caused them to look that way. _'Maybe they're a really dark blue.'_

As if sensing the boy's apprehension, the gentleman spoke in a soft timber voice that Hisoka decided suited him, "Oh, don't worry. I'm only passing through."

Still cautious, and wondering what exactly the man was doing out in the middle of nowhere- wearing a dark rumpled suit and trench coat- the boy relaxed a bit, balancing his weight on the heels of his geta sandals. "Are you a tourist? Did you get lost from the main road?"

"No, I'm fine," the man told him, giving him a bright smile as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. "I was looking for someone but I don't think I'll be able to find him here."

"If that's the case then shouldn't you contact the authorities?"

"No," the man replied, and Hisoka couldn't see it, but he could sense the melancholy and longing the man must have felt for that person. "No, I'm sure he's somewhere I can no longer reach." The way the stranger said it with such finality and such morose emotion was enough for Hisoka to drop the topic.

"You said you were 'fine' earlier, but you don't look it." Hisoka alleged instead, eyeing the man carefully and wondering why he was guarding those poignant emotions under such a cheerful expression. Hisoka didn't know why it bothered him, but it did. "In fact, you look sad."

The man stared at him, surprised and from what Hisoka could tell-the man wasn't expecting that comment in the least. The stranger opened his mouth to say something, looking lost and-

"Hisoka-sama!" A female voice called out and Hisoka swiveled his body around at the waist, inclining toward the direction it came from-just on the other side of the gate. "Miya-san…" He blinked. "I'm sorry, but I have to-" When he turned to address the man again there was no one there.

"Hisoka-sama," A servant girl with ribbons in her hair and freckles on her face opened the gate, sliding the door open, and panting slightly as she leaned against the frame for support. "You're finally back! I've been looking for you. I heard voices -but you're here all by yourself?"

Hisoka frowned at her. "Miya, did you hear someone else with me just now?"

"I only heard your voice, Hisoka-sama," she said earnestly, looking at him strangely before shutting the gate behind her. "If there was someone else here then how did they vanish so quickly? The only way they could have gone was either through the gate or onto the road. I or another servant would have run into him."

Hisoka's frown deepened, his eyebrows drawn together as he tried to make sense of his encounter with that strange man. He had no reason to believe that Miya would lie to him and her arguments on the possibility of a stranger being able to just vanish were valid. There was no way a normal person could just disappear like that. But that would have to mean that the man he had talked to wasn't just some random tourist who had gotten lost. No, Hisoka knew there had to be more to it than that.

_'Or the man could have been a demon,'_ he thought, _'or a spirit.'_ He had grown up subjected to ghost stories his whole life. His village's very foundation was based on a legend so he didn't find it impossible or shocking to come across something similar.

But why was this nagging him so much. He didn't understand why he felt truly bothered about the man. That sense of déjà vu from earlier unnerved him greatly. Hisoka felt like he should know him. Almost like the name of the man was dancing on his tongue, willing to be professed aloud but something was holding it back.

Who was that man? And why did his heart feel like it had just lost something important?

* * *

Tsuzuki had just returned to Enma's chambers after seeing Hisoka one last time. Enma had kept his part of the deal, even going so far as to change the events of time around. Because Tsuzuki's existence was erased, that meant that Muraki had never found Tsuzuki's picture in his grandfather's old files. So the crazed doctor that they had all known and feared had lost his motivation for revenge against his dead step brother. Not having some outlet to act out his desires, Muraki truly went insane and was put in a mental institution on the outskirts of Tokyo, far away from Hisoka's village. This change of events and rewritten history meant that Hisoka was still alive. Alive and un-cursed and no longer an immortal soul, tied down in limbo.

Enma's chambers were exactly how he remembered -decorated impressively- and constructed to be fit for a God. But the room he was in was now dark and dimly lit, the shadows of the flickering candle glimmering along the wall. He had been chained as soon as he'd entered Enma's throne room, the servants making quick work of his clothing and stripping him bare as they placed shackles around his wrists and ankles -binding him to the throne.

He was cold and he shivered, huddling against the throne, bringing his arms and legs as close to his stomach as he could in an attempt to conserve what little body heat he had.

He had tried to get away from the bindings, but the chains were encrypted with an incantation that wouldn't allow him to teleport away. He was stuck there, naked and cold and completely at Enma's mercy.

He heard the throne doors open and he perked up as the servants from before rushed in, quickly looking over the throne room for anything misplaced before Enma returned. Two of the servants approached him, one grabbing onto his head -to keep him from struggling- while the other slipped a blindfold over his eyes, covering his vision.

They left him there without a word, blind and immobile. The only thing he could make sense of were the sounds of their footsteps as they and the other servants finished their tasks and made their way out the door, leaving him to the cold and the silence.

It wasn't long before the door opened a second time, but unlike before, there was only one set of footsteps that slowly approached him. The unknown person stopped right in front of him, not saying anything for a few moments. The tense atmosphere caused Tsuzuki to shift uncomfortably; the only sounds now in the throne room were his heavy breathing and the light clinking of the metal chains.

Without warning, a strong hand grabbed at his hair and pulled him up -causing him to cry out. "Hello, Tsuzuki," Enma's voice greeted him before pulling him up higher. Tsuzuki was scrambling with his legs as he tried to fully stand up-anything to release the pressure on his scalp. But Enma was taller than he was and Tsuzuki was on tip-toe to compensate for their difference in height.

"I've kept my part of the deal, Tsuzuki. I even gave that Kurosaki a new chance at life." Enma's mouth pressed against his ear, the warm breath hitting against his skin as those lips moved to speak. "Now, it's your turn."

**To be continued.**

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

The title for the story: _Non Riescono a Ricordare _is Italian for "They Cannot Remember."

Eria was a big help to me in this chapter. I was struggling at first on how to incorporate Hisoka's surprise at seeing Tsuzuki's eyes and comparing it to something else. She suggested the dark blue example so I used it. :) It was much better than my lame example of light brown. XD

Thanks for reading. Please Review to let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter Two: To Accept

**WARNINGS: Manga/Anime Spoilers, Japanese Customs, Language, Dark themes, Sexual Content, NonCon, Yaoi, Het, Violence, Blood, Etc. **

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Yami no Matsuei.  
**Beta:** Eria

**Author's Note:** Nope…I don't know anything about a fic that was left abandoned nearly 2 years ago…Nope, not at all -don't have the slightest idea...I am so sorry y'all. This took forever and a day (as if forever wasn't enough, I had to add on an extra day!) Anyway, here is the long awaited Chapter 2. Again, I am terribly sorry! Hopefully y'all aren't disappointed by this chapter. I have to warn you, that it has lots of angst.

**Non Riescono A Ricordare  
**By EggDropSoup

_Chapter Two: To Accept_

He considered the landscape around him and when Miya said nothing further, he took a long breath. It was odd, he thought, tipping his head back. There wasn't a single trace of the man around, almost like he had just vanished altogether. But it had been real…or at least…it had _felt_ real.

He raised a hand to his chest, rubbed at the little bump he felt under his heart-the only evidence, the only proof of the exchange that had happened between them. He didn't know why he had been so affected by the man, or why he still felt so strangely sad. It was both baffling and embarrassing.

Straightening his shoulders, Hisoka turned, looked now into Miya's inquisitive face. "You said you were looking for me?" he prompted.

"Oh! Your father told me to find you." She gestured at the gates and through them, in the direction of the main house. "He looked really upset too. I don't think his meeting with the doctor went well."

"My father?" He studied her face, eyebrows lacing together in concern. "Did something happen? Is it his condition-did it get worse?"

She gave a tiny, sidelong smile, and shook her head. "I'm not sure. He didn't give a reason. Just said he wanted to see you right away."

His mouth turned grim. He had a feeling that something very big was happening and he hated it all the more that he didn't know what _it_ was. "I see. Alright, I will go and meet with him now."

He made to brush past her, but she caught at his arm. "Wait, Hisoka-kun. How about we go in, together?" she offered sweetly, drawing closer.

There was an intentional glint in her eyes but before he could move to avoid it, she had already kissed him, closing her lips over his impatiently.

At first, the kiss wasn't so bad. Miya kissing him had long lost its shock value half a year ago, but the minute she looped her arms around his neck and pushed herself fully against him, an uncomfortable prickle began to itch at his skin.

Each caress of her lips against his came with a new onslaught of emotions, and that combined with the heat, and her heavy perfume made his stomach clench sickeningly. Everything was suddenly too hot, too much, and his throat burned when he couldn't seem to draw the air into his lungs.

He gripped her arms; tugged them down and off. "No, that's alright," he all but gasped out, breaking away from her and putting space in between them.

The last thing he wanted was to get overloaded by having her hang all over him- even if she didn't realize she was doing it. "Why don't you go on ahead?" he offered, breathing heavily.

"But…" She tried to slant a persuasive smile his way, and was slightly disappointed when it didn't make a dent. "Okay," she said, stepping back. "I'll see you inside. Don't take too long," she added, walking through the doors of the gate and leaving them open for him.

He waited until he could no longer hear her muffled footsteps before he let out a long, relieved breath. Miya's feelings were so strong that they nearly suffocated him. Another minute, he admitted, and he might have had to bodily shove her off him just to avoid having a panic attack. With a hand pressed to his queasy stomach, he told himself they were both lucky he hadn't risked their friendship by revealing his secret.

For a moment he stayed there, silent, unmoving, and barely breathing as he contemplated the double doors in front of him. The same doors he had been told all his life that would keep him safe.

But Hisoka didn't feel safe when he finally stepped through them. He felt…threatened. And that odd sense of foreboding only increased when he reached the main house and slipped inside.

He left his sandals with an attendant in the genkan, and didn't even bother to answer the greetings or accept the slippers offered to him by the other servants as he preceded though the hallway silently.

Miya was already in the meeting room when he got there, and as he moved through the doorway, he looked at his father. Nagare was sitting at the very front of the room, dressed in a dark kimono-the one Hisoka knew he liked because of the long sleeves that hid his bandaged arms.

The blond assumed that Nagare had heard him enter, because his head was titled in his direction. This gave him a more concrete view of his father's face and he was surprised to see that Nagare was wearing the black blindfold again. The infection in his eyes must have gotten worse.

Hisoka stepped lightly over the lined edges of the tatami mats, remembering to move very slowly. Just because his father couldn't see him didn't mean he couldn't hear him. And the last thing he wanted, on top of the big news, was a stern lecture over his etiquette.

He crossed to her, squatted, placed his hands on his thighs, and bowed his head as Miya announced him. "Nagare-sama, I have brought Hisoka-sama."

The Kurosaki head nodded, looked at her. "You may return back to your work now, Miya. I wish to speak with my son alone." The words were an order, not a request and Hisoka remained very still, that odd feeling of trepidation from earlier now resurfacing.

"Yes, Nagare-sama," she responded automatically, but when she saw her childhood friend's apprehension, Miya reached down and gave a small, encouraging squeeze to his hand before rising and hurrying away.

It wasn't until the shoji door had slid quietly shut behind her that Nagare turned his head in his son's direction again. "Come forward, Hisoka."

The blond did as his father instructed, rising and walking forward until he was right in front of him. "I am here, Father," he said, lowering himself slowly to his knees, and he noticed that he didn't have to tilt his head up as much to look at the other man anymore. He was getting taller, and they would soon stand at eye level of each other.

"Your mother is pregnant," his father announced suddenly.

Hisoka's eyes flickered, seeming to look through him as a sick, swooping sensation traveled down his chest into his gut. He pressed both hands on the floor in front of him, steading himself, too bewildered to do much else.

"Is…" He couldn't say it, couldn't ask about his own mother or even call _that woman_ his mother. How could he? When, to this very day, she regarded him with such disgust and repulsion. "Who else knows?" he asked instead, sitting back.

"It will be announced publicly on the day of the village's Founding Day Festival," Nagare replied. "Until then, no one outside the immediate family is to know. It would prove disastrous."

Hisoka had no words to argue against that. He could just imagine the maids' eyes round with gossip if they knew. It wouldn't take long before a few conspiring whispers in the halls would leak to the outside.

"Yes, Father. I will remain silent until you announce it to the village at the festival," the blond agreed, unsure of how he felt about potentially having a sibling. He'd been alone in this family for so long. He almost wished it wasn't true if not to save his future brother or sister from experiencing that same loneliness.

Though Nagare could not see him through the blindfold, his lips thinned gravely. "No. This year, you will attend the festival in my place and make the announcement."

Hisoka blinked, his head coming up harshly. "But Father, surely I am not the person the villagers are expecting. If they see you, they will feel relieved that your health is-

"My health is declining, Hisoka," his father snapped. "It is a matter of time before I waste away. But before I do, I want to make sure that you are capable enough to take over the family. You will go," he added. "And speak on behalf of the Kurosaki family, understood?"

"Yes," he replied, the hands in his lap curling into fists.

"Until the child your mother carries is born, you are this family's only heir," Nagare reminded him, his bandaged hand coming up to grope for him blindly. It found purchase on Hisoka's shoulder and held tight. "Do not disappoint me."

He braced himself as the cold, heavy, ominous presence within his father washed over him through the contact. But he neither flinched nor winced. For to do so would be weak and he could not, would not, be weak. "Yes, Father. I won't let you down."

* * *

_Long fingers dipped beneath the rim of the silver collar, sliding purposefully along the tender skin of his neck. __"This marks you as mine now, Tsuzuki. Never forget." _

"_The inscription on it makes it so that it can never be removed. Whether or not it is a comfortable fit depends on your obedience-a fine training tool, I might add," Enma said, thin lips smirking as he removed his hand. "Should you fail to disobey me, however, you may find more than just your own comfort to be at stake." _

_The dark threat in that voice loomed all around him and -while he kept his head lowered, his eyes lifted, meeting the god's heated ones in wild panic. _

_Hisoka…_

"_Yes, Master," he answered quickly, glancing back down again._

_Seeming satisfied, Enma clapped his hands imperiously and the double doors to his bedchamber opened instantly. Two tall and brawny guards, both dressed in traditional kimonos, stepped inside. "They will take you away for now. I will call for you again when I want you."_

_Tsuzuki nodded slowly in understanding, his eyes still cast down submissively. Then, abruptly, Enma's hand shot out and latched onto his hair-dragging him up from the bed. "Is that how you show your love for your master, Tsuzuki?"_

_Swiftly, mechanically, he scrambled onto his master's lap. Ignoring the shame that filled his heart, he positioned his knees on either side of Enma's thighs-exposing his naked body fully to the guards- and threw his arms around the god's neck. _

"_Please take me again, Master." He hoped the tremor in his voice would be mistaken for passion rather than the fear he felt._

"_No…the waiting, I think…" The god traced his fingertips over the brunet's jaw, "…will serve to hone appetites."_

_The implication of his master's words filled him with dread but he only nodded obediently. "Yes, Master." He tried to draw back, but a strong pair of hands suddenly dug roughly into his hips, stopping him._

"_On second thought, I will grant you a reward. A sample, to remind you of what is to come later," he said, his breath coming in short as he pulled Tsuzuki back down to cover his lips in a brutal kiss. It was so dominating that Tsuzuki could taste the god's desire, and the delight he took in force. He didn't think that his response even mattered to Enma, all the god seemed to care about was how much of brunet's smooth skin he could touch. _

_When he was done, he grasped Tsuzuki's waist and threw him back onto the bed roughly. "Well, what do you say, Tsuzuki? Am I not generous?" The god asked, taking up his robe from the side of the bed and slipping it over his shoulders. The tone of his voice was condescending, like one would say to an impertinent child. _

_Tsuzuki didn't feed into it, or react. He simply kept his eyes lowered as he replied softly, "Yes, master. Thank you, Master."_

* * *

Tsuzuki awoke slowly. His body was aching, and his mouth felt dead.

_Where?_ He thought groggily, lifting his face up and searching his surroundings.

He was back in his cell again, lying face down on a cot on the stone floor, where the guards had left him. He was cold and he realized, sickeningly, that he was still completely naked. Unbidden memories of his encounter with the god immediately began flitting across his mind and he shuddered involuntarily.

Carefully, he tried to sit up, but could only slump against the wall behind him. His pounding headache and tender waist prevented him from moving further and he lifted a hand to his forehead with a suppressed groan.

From his position, he could see the faint daylight coming in through the high, barred windows and it gave him small relief knowing he'd be safe for a few more hours. Enma wouldn't call for him until later in the evening, leaving Tsuzuki with just enough time for his body to heal and recover before the physical onslaught began again.

He couldn't suppress the shudder of fear that came from thinking about it.

A sharp clinking sound at his cell door alerted him, and he turned his head to see a handful of Enma's white-robbed servant girls filtering in. They didn't speak to him -not that he expected them to- and approached him carefully, carrying buckets full of bathing supplies.

They wordlessly surrounded him; appearing unfazed by his nakedness and the visible scar on his right wrist, and they quickly proceeded to clean him with their sponges and soapy water.

It was all done too quickly for him to relax and enjoy the feeling of the warm water on his tired muscles, but the friction from the scrubbing and drying was enough for his body's uncontrollable shivering to die down.

They didn't give him any clothes to wear, just a single, sheer robe that hung off of at his shoulders and could be tied at the front. The fabric was completely transparent and Tsuzuki mildly wondered why they bothered dressing him in it when it didn't hide anything at all. He figured it was one of those things that Enma must have ordered, the collar and chains Tsuzuki usually wore now being not as stimulating to look at. But even so, he didn't fight them as they maneuvered his arms and neck like a doll.

He didn't need to be told or instructed-he knew what Enma's expectations of his appearance were and he went along with it, not wanting to cause trouble for the servant girls. The God had made it more than clear of what would happen should he disobey, and he didn't want anyone else to be dragged down along with him.

Once they were finished, they hurriedly gathered their supplies and left- the sound of his cell door closing was loud and piercing in the deafening silence that surrounded him, making him feel more alone now than he had felt before.

Because Tsuzuki was Enma's slave now, this meant that he would no longer serve as a shinigami and would be unable to go anywhere unless ordered. He wouldn't even be able to buy things for himself-not that he cared about money. His survival was no longer his responsibility-from now on, anything he received -be it food, water, or clothing- was at his master's digression. The way all his choices seemed stricken from him made him no better than a _pet_.

He snorted indignantly at the irony. Who would have thought that he'd actually live up to his old nickname as "Enma's Dog"?

And that suited Tsuzuki just fine because he didn't want to think about anything anymore. Thinking made everything hurt, made him remember every time Enma touched him and abused his body with overpowering lust.

But no matter how much he tried, he could never escape the soft, condescending voice that hovered in the back of his mind.

_I don't want this._

_You can't go back now; the deal has already been made. _

_But Hisoka…_

_You can't be with him again. He doesn't remember you…He doesn't even know who you are._

_To him you're just a nameless stranger he couldn't care less about._

All the feelings that had been building up inside him -pain, guilt, disgust, and love- seemed to clamp around his throat like strangling hands.

_You were already worthless- at least in this way, you can be of use._

_You must keep Enma pleased, if you don't…he'll make Hisoka suffer. _

_Besides, there's nothing he can do to your body that someone hasn't already done before._

_No matter what happens to me, it's worth it if Hisoka can be happy. _

_You have nowhere else to belong now._

His hand came to his throat, touching the silver collar. It's solid and strong presence around his neck reassuring him that Hisoka was safe. It was the only hope he had left- and he clung to it desperately.

Knowing that Hisoka would have freedom and happiness was more than enough. Even if it came at the expense of his own, he'd be content. He'd endure through it all. Now and forever.

**To be continued.**

* * *

**Author's Notes:**  
There were quite a few Japanese traditions that I glossed over, in order to avoid making the chapter lengthy. Like the meticulous steps needed in order to slide open the doors, etc. XD If you care to look online, there are tons of websites/videos that can show you how it's done. I did keep the not walking on the lines of tatami mats and a little description about the meeting rooms/main rooms of the house. So I hope y'all enjoyed that. I'll try and put in more tidbits that I remember from when I lived overseas as this story continues.

*hands out tissues and cookies all around* I am sooo soooo sorry, y'all. Not only for being so late with updating, but also because this chapter is sooo dark. Please don't panic -or worry- the story isn't over yet, so please bear with these sad times for a little while longer. And please don't hate Miya too much. XD I'm not too fond of these events myself, believe me! (Y'all know me. I can't stand the depressing stuff. :( ) I just really wanted to make sure you had a recent update of something before my birthday this Sunday (the 28th!).

I'll do my best to get over my long multi-chapter fic commitment issues if y'all are willing to hang on until the end of the ride. It'll get better, I promise! :) Thanks so much for everything. Love you all to pieces!


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